CONDENSED STORIES.
Mr? Carnegie Hr.anted Mr. Schwab1*
Criticism of Golf.
4litre is no more eutiiusiastie
! player than Andrew Carnegie.
(iqiries M. Schwab, on the other
hagd, holds tin.t golf is the most no
ac&unt game known to man. One
daf several tilings had li:ij>|M*ned to
amjny Mr. Schwab, and he hurried
in $o talk with Mr. Carnegie in any
thing but a jilcisant frame of mind.
Mr. Carnegie was absorbed in the
contemplation of a new set of golf
As Mr. Sohw ib ^nter^d Mr.
CARNKGIES I)Ei-T? E or OOLF.
Carnegie looked around with a
Bioile and said, "Charles, what do
you think of this game of golf!'"
What Mr. Schwab said about go.f
and the people who play it and the
tour who invented it and everything
cdliflected with it wa lurid. As he
paused for a second to take breath
Mr. Carnegie aid: "Charles, 1 con
sider golf the h t game in the
world. L ant very fond of playing
it, and this is all that 1 care to say
to you this morning."
Mr. Schwab had to leave, and it
was several da - b.f re Mr. Carne
gie would speak to him.
i-rrnrj
f THE OUNMAKER f
| OF MOSCOW. |
I By S
SYLVANTJ: IBB, JR. j!
rf A'1! "? xii.
? ? '-:r' tt! \ I- I) I V IT WAS INTF.a
I ? i-? I J Zcnobie were
t 1 ing room, and
the form ! 1 ' , weeping. Slie
loo I j tin on we saw lier
1 c-f- >??, mil! >w was heavy.
i. ? . ;it about the
i mi pi , aid her eyes
, I' I'.i i':
1'*. be had sneered
liUlcli.
"M 1 urywd the
faithI 'I Z. > : nriag her anas
? arid drawing
1 er lie; ; 1 i bv-om, "weep;
ro a i ? 0 tl must he some
1 op ! S will not suffer
i nch an r v to be done."
rned the fair
I'wi i u i ig, melancholy
ton I >k for hope?"
"1 u have told ne
? !1 1>
l"'o. ?! -? ..>u not always j
been good to God?"
i md as I knew
blew, thoi I -;inned."
"How : i? ,:c-d? Oh, my mistress,
if you h rinned, then who is,
pure? Tell me."
"We ill . . 7 liie. It is our
nature."
?"? i I have often heard, but 1 {
liar ly tbiiyou have sinned. What
have you d ue which you knew to
be wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing."
?Then how have you sinned ?"
"Ah, Zenobie, we all do things
which we ought not to do. But yet
I mean to do as neir right as 1
?
can.
"Then leave the rest with God.
Oh, when p'>or r. irtals do as near
right as lit in their power, surely
they may leave the rest with God
without fear. And now, if God is
just ns you tell me, why should
he allow the wicked duke to triumph
ever you? What justice would there J
be in that when you are all good-1
?ess and he is sin itseit T*
Rosalind was puzzled. She had
fried to teach her iittendsut to love
honor Cod, and sfve had so far j
succeeded that ZciIoUic -understood
wtl the principles of 'lwistianity
and embraced them gladly and joy
fully. But now how should she
?take this point understood? How
should si r. ncile this apparent
injustice with God's universal mer
ey and justice?
"Csn v. -->? *cR mc ?" the young '
girl asked again. "Why should God
a w such a thing? You 6ay ho is
all powerful and can do what he
wills."
"Zenobw," r 'nmed the maiden i
after pom' ; g for awhile, "jou do [
not look at the subject in a proper
light. God does not operate by pet
ty, individual decisions, as an em
peror does. lie aces that certain
laws are necessary for the good of
mankind, and not a single law of all
his code is there but is verv good.
' Last night your head at lied, and
you sufTered, and, of course, you bad
violated some natural law. It was
your own fault. And so this suf
fering which is now come upon me
is the result of a violation of one of
God's laws."
"Ah," cried Zenobie eagerly. "but
you are the one who suiters while
another violates the law. In my
case I did both and do not com
plain."
"But listen." pursued Rosalind,
with a brightening countenance, for
the true idea had rotne to her mind
"It would not he just for u person
to enjoy all the good of a law and
leuve oilers to suffer all the evil
God has established in us a social
nature, and through that part of
our nature come the sweetest of our
earthly enjoyments. Such a law ?
the law of sociality?must he uinver
sal and if men break that law they
must suffer, and the only just way
in which God could shield me from
suffering would he to releusf' me
from the effects of the law Then I I
should he a poor, lonesome outcast,
forced to live all my days alone like
a barren rock upon the top of some
bleak mountain. But I would rath
er live among people and enjoy the
companionship of my fellows. I
have freely accepted the boon, and
now. when its evils come, I must
suffer. Had God's intent been fol- |
lowed out there would have been no
suffering. It is not his fault that
the duke sins. Do you understand
me 1'"
"I don't know," murmured the
young girl dubiously.
"But, see," resumed Rosa'ind.
"You choose to exercise your social
nature, and of your own accord you
mingle among your fellows. Do
you not see that thus you are enjoy
ing one of God's richest blessings?
the blessing of sociality, friendship
and love?"
"Yes, I see."
"Well, so far God is good in hav
ing given you that power for such
enjoyment ?"
"Yes, 1 see."
"Well, now, under that law, when
my father and mother died 1 found
a friend in the duke and here have
found a home. But circumstances
have changed. The duke has be
come wicked in thought?he wants
more money?and he will prostitute
u power which in obeyunec of (lod's
law would be good to my ruin.
Now, Clod cannot save me without
rending to pieces one of his most
powerful laws and one which is
meant for a universal good. The
moment he does that lie destroys
that principle of human dependent e
whence flow those most holy virtues
of love, friendship and charity. He
must act by uuiver. al laws and not;
by purlin! rules and individual ex
ceptions. So us long as 1 can enjoy
the blowings of social life 1 must he
subject to the evils of treachery and
social wickedness. Do you not un
derstand now?"
''I see, 1 see," the girl murmured
thoughtfully.
"Aye, Zenohie," the mistress add
ed, while a holy light shone upon
lier countenance, "Clod has made us
subject to ills here.. But look be
yond the grave, and how bright it is
with hope! 1 have a father and a
mother there. Oh, in all my misery,
even in the worst state to which the
bad duke can reduce me, I would not
change places with him. You seem
ed to intimate that God would see
me suffer and yet let the duke tri
umph. Triumph? Oh, Zenohie, for
what would you have that man's
heart in your bosom and his soul in
your keeping?"
"1 would rather die!" the girl
cried, while a cold shudder ran
through her frame.
"Then, you see, he does not go
clear. Oh, how blind and simple
are those who imagine there can be
pleasure in sin!"
This opened a new theme to Zeno
bie's mind, and she pondered upon
it a long while. But by and by she
came hack to the theme from
whence they had started, and in pur
suance thereof she said:
"My mistress, are you sure the
duke will persist in this?"
"Aye, Zenohie; 1 know he will,"
Rosalind answered, while the old
shudder came back to her frame and
the old grief to her soul.
"And have you no hope?"
"Only one?in Ruric. lie may
help me."
^Qh, 1 hope he can! IJe-is a no
ble mar."
Rosalind answered with a look of
gratitude, and Zenohie proceeded:
"Where is the titled lord more no
ble than he? Oh, were I to choose
a husband now and he was free and
I was in your position I'd choose
Ruric Nevel before all the emperors
of earth."
"So would I," returned the fair
maiden.
"If I were a countess, as you are,
oli, how I should love to make such
a nxan 4 count 1" _
"But my marrying him would not
make him a count. Were he a count
and I like wltat he is now in nation
his marrying me would give me the
title. But we poor women do not
have that power."
"Well. then, we should fo much
more have the right to choose our
owu husbands."
Rosalind made no oral answer,
but her look allowed that she ?ym
pathired wtih llie sentiment.
".My mistress." at length spoke
Zcnolne again. this lime in a low
whisper, "why may we not leave
this place?"
Rosalind started as though she
had heard the s|?eeh of a spirit, and
for a moment a look of hope gleam
ed upon her face. But it quickly
passed away.
"Alas, where should we go!"
This was a part of the plan which
Zenohie had not thought of. and
ere she could make uny reph one of
the female domestical entered the
apartment and announced that a
woman wished to see her voang inis
tre.-s. Rosalind a-kcd who it was.
Lmt the girl could only tell her thv
il was a middle aged woman ami
verv good lot king The youn.
countess hade Zen ?! ie go dow n ami
conduct her up. lire loi.g after
ward the allendant returned, and
with her came Chr; a Ne el If or
ilind had not seen ti e go al woman
for over a year. I at she knew her a',
once, and. starting rp Irom her seat,
she boumlid lorw..id and embraced
her warmly.
"Ah. Aunt rh.m'ni. I am pic,.1 vo i
have come! You wall let me ml
you aunt, as I <1. I in those happ*
times long gone In r"
"Aye. sweet Rosalind." returned
the willow, impr n it, . a warm kis
uj'on the fair white brow.
The eicinte s nntieed the stran
r.adr.e-- of the wonimi's tone, and
then, f r Il;r t fine also, sb.
noticed . of her look.
"Aunt Claudia, you look sad," site
raid, while a chili dread struck to
her own heart.
"Aye," the widow uttered, as
though she were afraid to venture j
the que lion lie wished to ask; "1
have bee.- very sad I , iu.-e I have
had a terrible fear, iius?has not!
Ruric be, n here?"
"When?" littered the maiden,
catching the whole fear now.
"Within these three days."
".lust then. I>ay before yester
day he was here?in the forenoon."
"And 1 ha e not seen him since!"
the poor woman groaned.
Act sivn him r Rune gone? Oh.
where, wlu re?"
"lie said he wan going to see the
Count Damonoff when lie left here,"
interposed Zenolie, who j lined 111
the grief.
"Aye: so lie told n o," returned
the mother. "I I ive lieen tliere,
and they have rot seen him since
that evening. The .".eon who at
ten Is the count went oat to tiie inn
whore Kuric put up his horse, and
the animal was stii! tie. "e, his own
er having not called for him."
"0 God, have mercy!" ejaculated!
the young count e- in a -paroxysm
of grief.
At this moment there came a rap
upon the door, and Zenobie went to
answer the summon- It was the
bini k ir:o .. \ ladimir, who thus de
nt ' I j -ittanee. At any other
tit ? loth Rosalind and Claudia
might have I t startled by the:
strange vi it, hut mtw they instinc- j
tively hailed his coming as a source '
of hope.
"Ladies," spoke th ? fat monk, ap
proaching the spot where t!.ev stood
and bowing verv low, "you will per- 1
don this unseemly meih-d of gain- j
ing adini ion here, but I had no;
ether choice, for 1 feared the duke j
would refuse me did 1 apply to him. I
1 have come to learn, if possible,!
where Ruric Nevel may be."
The widow tried to answer, but
instead of speaking 6he burst into
tears. Rosalind struggled a moment
witb tbe deep emotions that stirred
within her, and she, too, fell to
weeping. Zenobie was obliged to
answer.
"Good father," said she, "we here |
are after the same knowledge. Ilis I
poor mother has come here to try
if she might find some clew to the'
noble youth, and thus did mv mis
tress gain the first intelligence that
he was gone. Pray, good sir, do you
know anything about him? What
have you heard?"
Both Claudia and the young
countess, now raised their heads, for
they would hear what reply the
monk could make.
"1 only know that he is missing,"
Vladimir replied. "A little while
ago 1 called upon the sick count,
and there I learned that Ruric Xe
vel had mvslerio.ish disappeared,
and 1 le.-.r .? d l.-o ?>. :h ? . ol,,e pur
pose for winch lie v ?:! d t..e count."
"Aye," imerpo.. Cut da. with
sudden energi : "he v t to try to
gain the count's lorguvm1 don't
think tliev spoke falser there. I
don't think any th.-re would wish
him harm from any lingering re
venge."
"No, no!" returned the monk.
"His mission thither was most nobly
fulfilled. So far from cherishing
nr* - * in: - I revenge i* the count
tl :<t !.?? u . ! i'v. r I,car for Kuric the
In)!i ?-1 i;r,.. it'.jde of li:s soul."
??tin \o! iliiok so?" the widow
ai I;nl hoj.if.illy.
"1 kiio.. it." was the mor.k'? as
sured reply. "But." lit- continued,
relapsing into perplexity. "! cannot !
imagine what lias U-come of him.
But. hold! My dear <h I I. is there
not a humpbacked. ungainly priest
who soun times visits your guard
ian ?"
This was addressed to Rosalind,
and ? fearful tremor shook her
frame as she heard it. for its import
was at onre apparent
"Do you suspect"? She had
started forward and grasped the
monk's arm as she thus commenced,
but she could not continue. The
thought she would have uttered was
terrible.
"(Jo on," whispered Vladimir,
bending his head low down so as to
catch her very thoughts if they left
her lips. "What would you say?"
"Oh, 1 ought not, and yet I
know his soul i9 capable even of
that." Thus much the fair count
ess murmured to herself, and then
she gazed up and spoke to the
strange man before her.
"Do you suspect ray guardian?"
"Do you suspect him?" the monk
returned.
"Oh, I know not what to think!"
"But listen," resumed Vladimir
earnestly. "1 would know all that
you know, and then perhaps I can
assist you Tear not, for as true as
God lives I mean to save Kuric if 1
can, and if I can but gain a clew to
him now I can surely save you both.
Trust me. for I possess a wondrous
power for the good of those who
trust me. Now, what end could the
duke have in view in wishing for
Banc's removal? I know what he
ha 1 in view in concocting the duel ?
it was the death of Damonolf and
the undivided possession of Drot
ren. Now, answer me, what does he
aim at now?"
In spite of all doubts Rosalind
found herself trusting the monk.
There was an air of conscious truth
and pow.er in his look and tone that
won upon her.
"Good father," she returned after
a few moments' thought, "the duke
lias sworn bv a most fearful oath
that he will have me for his wife!"
"Ila!" uttered the monk, starting
back a pace and clinching his hands.
"Does he mean that ?"
"Oh, most truly he does!" the
young countess replied, and she
spoke more firmly now, for there
was something in the sudden energy
of the monk's exclamation that gavfc
her hope.
"Then lie wants your estates too.
By my soul, he is aiming for wealth
with 11 high hand! And do you sup
pose he fears Kuric Nevel in con
nection with this scheme?"
"Yes, father?I will speak plain
ly, for i trust you. 1 do not think
\ ou would betray one who never
harmed you."
"Let the end of these things tell
you that. But now finish what you
had begun?about your thoughts of
the duke."
"lie knows, holy father, that 1
lore Kuric, and he knows, too, that
Kuric loves me. Slay he not under
such circumstances fear that the no
ble youth will try to thwart him?"
"Very likely," returned Vladimir
thoughtfully. "1 will profit by this
and 1 uin much mistaken if you do
not also profit by it. 1 have those in
Moscow who will work for me. 1
cannot, of course, directly assure
you of salvation, for Kuric may
never be found."
A quick groan escaped from
Claudia's lips as the monk thus
spoke, but before llosalind could
speak the door of the upartment was
opened, and the Duke of Tula strode
in! lie stopped as he came nigh to
where the company stood, and hi?
eyes flashed ai.d his ffiime trembled
with passion.
"How now?" he cried as soon as
he could command speech. "What
means this gathering here in uu
own palace? Meddling monk, how
dare you drag your detestable form
hither? Out, reptile, outl And let
me catch you here again and my
dogs shall tear you up as they do
carrion!"
Without a word the monk turned
away. His face was pale as death
and his hands were clinched till the
fn 'era' ends seemed to settle them
selves into the palms.
"Kemeniber," the duke exclaimed
a? Vladimir reached the door, "if
y a dare to cross my door stool
again"?
"Hold!" gasped the mn k in
hoar-e. startling tone, "o'er nV
n.nro threats. But. mark ihc. proud
<3: ko, von shall see the day on which
y . .1 wi h tied ha I.made vnt a dog
lie t'll>'(? o.l - j: Cil 11> il l..-< thi
just i 'itge.. u <? hi imltmtr
TiitIS I . 'tig. I II .lb l k II A
di-l.|)pl 11 ? . I c : I .1
hint, but lie ua! not to i i>
itnpuLe lire he rv.ici ed . ? >
he stopped and turned back
"Ami you, woman, who
thou?" he uttered, turning m. r
look upon Claudia.
"I am a mourning ntuci t i
search ot her lost son," the woman
sadlv replied.
"11a! I sop the likeness now.
You are the woman Nevel, mother
of the young villain who bears that
name! Leave my palace at once,
and doal you dare to enter it
again!"
The poor woman tried to speak,
but she awnld not. With a deep sob,
she turned away and slowly walked
from the ???otn.
"Now," resumed the duke, turn
ing toward Rosalind, "what means
this secret council?"
"Mv lord," returned the countess,
struggling hard to overcome her
powerful emotions, "they were hire
?to? to"?
Hut she could not finish the sen
tence. Her soul was too deeply j
moved. She only gave the foul
wretch one look of horror and dis- j
gust, and then, covering her fact
with her hands, she sobbed aloud.
If the bad man had anything fur
ther to say. he reserved it for some
future time.
CHAPTER XIII.
Tlir. I'l.OTTFIt IS AT WORK
Count Conrad Damonoff was abh
to sit up. He was in a great stuffed
chair, playing with a favorite do: |
while near by him sat Stephen !
ten. The young nobleman had gai
td rapidly sirue the visit of Ruric
for the antidotes he had taken hail
proved efficient, and he soon came
back to the point he had reached be
fore the adiuin'stering of the poi
son.
"Stephen," he said, pushing his
dog gently from him, "has anything
been heard yet from Ruric Nevel?"
"Not that 1 know of," returned
C rzen.
"Oh, I wish I were able to assist
in the scafi|li! Hut have you heard
nnvthing ST what suspicions may be }
afloat?"
"Only that the humpbacked priesi j
is looked upon by some as having [
had some hand in it."
"Ha! And how does suspicion j
point toward him?"
"Why, in no direct way, I believe, j
I cannot understand it. All I know .
is he is suspected."
The count pondered a few mo
ments, and he thought he could see
it. Urzen did not know the secret of
his friend's strange relapse, for that
had been kept private. So he had
no clew to the priest's true charac
ter, as the count possessed.
"I believe the fellow is a villain,"
Urzen resumed. "He is surely a vil
lainous looking man."
"So he is," responded the count.
"I never saw .-Hiak a wicked look
before in any human face."
"Ah!" uttered a voice close by the ]
door. "Who comes in for the flatter
ing remark, my friend?"
Both the count and Stephen turn
ed, and the humpbacked priest him
self stool in their presence.
"Ha!" he uttered as he noticed
the position of the invalid. "Up?,
By the holy Virgin, you are recover-1
ing!"
"Aye," returned Conrad; 'T am
gaining fast now, as you may see." ;
The priest struggled hard with
his feelings, and at length he man
aged to conceal the deep disappoint- \
ment he felt?that is, he hid it from
Stephen's eyes, but the count knew
him too well. . |
"You have not been very punctual |
of late, father," the latter said, also j
trying to conceal his real feelings.
"Mo, no," returned Savotano in a
perplexed manner; "1 admit it. But
the fact is 1 have been called away.
Let's see. I have not been here
since the evening on which 1 found
o stranger sitting by yonr side while
you were asleep."
"Who was the stranger?"
"1 don't know. 1 think I never
saw him before. He was a good
looking young man. Perhaps he
was some relative of yours ?"
This downright falsehood, so bold
and flagrant, astonished even the
count, for he knew the conversation
which the priest had held with Ru
ric on ttffl# wision, and, quick as
lighting, too, went the thouglkt to
the sick man's mind that this was to
hide the probability of his being
suspected In connection with Ruric's
disappearance.
"1 thought you knew that man,"
the count said, looking the priest
sharply in the face.
"No. f may have seen him be
fore, but I did not surely recognize
him then, I asked him why be was
here, but he would not answer me
save by urging me to silence. Who
was he, my son ?"
The count was at first inclined
not to answer, but be thought bet
ter o4 ft ?r$ finally toW the priest
that it ftiUfe fterel. The vil
lain seemed much surprised at this
and professed to wonder why the
fellow should come to that place.
Urzen, who knew nothing of the
falsehood which rested under all
this questioning, went on and ex
plained the nature of Ruric's mis
sion and its result. And thereupon
Savotano expressed a wondrous de
gree of joy and gratification, and
he even presumed to bless God that
such a reconciliation had taken
tflace.
(ContSlued en Si'Ttnth Page.)
For Sixty Days,
For the next sixty days we shaft
sell goods very cheap for cash In
order to run down our stock as we
expect to make some changes in
business. If you need
Heavy and Fancy
Groceries,
Snuff, Cigars, Tobacco, Confec
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General Merchandise
come to our store. Your patron
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Mr Paul Fitzgerald is with us and
will be glad to have his friendl
call and see him.
J, M. VINGON & CO.,
Selma, N. C.
July 1-tf.
FOCORSETS
Make
American Beauties,
We have them
in all styles and
shapes to fit every
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^ corset is sold
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"Money refunded after four
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satisfactory."
Look for this
Trade Mark on
inside of corset
and on box.
KALAMAZOO CORSET CO.
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FOR SALE BY
\AJ. G. Yelvington,
8MIT1IFIELD, N. C.
You NEED IT.
It is Ciood to have
on hand. JV'
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You Get a Large Bottle for 50 cts,
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March 19?tf
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Hals Trimmed fo Order
. ?BY?
Miss Annie Glisson,
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us before buying elsewhere.
Respectfully,
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CLAYTON. N. C.
THIS IS
The New Number 8
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FOR SALE BY
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